#AmericanWriters
Here lies Greer Harrison, a well… So small a tenant of so big a hous… He joyed in fighting with his eyes… Prudently pendent from a peaceful… And loved to loll on the Parnassi…
What! imitate me, friend? Suppose… With agony and difficulty do What I do easily-what then? You’v… A style I heartily wish _I_ had n… If I from lack of sense and you f…
Hawaii’s King resigned his breath Our Legislature guffawed. The awful dignity of death Not any single rough awed. But when our Legislators die
I had a dream. The habitable eart… Its continents and islands, all we… Of cities and of forests. Naught… Of its old aspect, and I only kne… (As men know things in dreams, unk…
‘I never yet exactly could determi… Just how it is that the judicial e… Is kept so safely from predacious… ‘It is not so, my friend: though i… ’Tis kept in camphor, and you ofte…
What! photograph in colors? 'Tis… And he who dreams it is not overwi… If colors are vibration they but s… And have no being. But if Tyndall… Why, come, then-photograph my lady…
God’s people sorely were oppressed… I heard their lamentations long; I hear their singing, clear and st… I see their banners in the West! The captains shout the battle-cry,
To flatter your way to the goad of… O plausible Mr. Perkins, You’ll need ten tons of the softes… And butter a thousand firkins. The soap you could put to a better…
Hasten, children, black and white Celebrate the yearly rite. Every pupil plant a tree: It will grow some day to be Big and strong enough to bear
I Slept, and, waking in the years… Heard voices, and approaching when… Listened indifferently where a key Had lately been removed. An ancie… Said to her daughter: ‘Go to yond…
I ne’er could be entirely fond Of any maiden who’s a blonde, And no brunette that e’er I saw Had charms my heart’s whole warmth to draw.
High Lord of Liars, Pickering, t… Let meaner mortals bend the subjec… Thine is mendacity’s imperial crow… Alike by genius, action and renown… No man, since words could set a ch…
Father! whose hard and cruel law Is part of thy compassion’s plan, Thy works presumptuously we scan For what the prophets say they saw… Unbidden still the awful slope
That land full surely hastens to i… Where public sycophants in homage… The populace to flatter, and repea… The doubled echoes of its loud con… Lowly their attitude but high thei…
As in a dream, strange epitaphs I… Inscribed on yet unquarried stone, Where wither flowers yet unstrown The Campo Santo of the time to be…